Like A Drowning Buffalo
by justlikespader
Summary: I've had no experience with boys. I have a bad habit of rambling. I'm a crazy lunatic who talks to herself. Basically, I'm a loser. But I think I'm catching the eye of this new boy named Spader. He's kind of weird, but he's gorgeous!


Another school year over. It doesn't seem real that I'll be going into 11th grade next year. That seems so old and I just feel so… unold. Is that even a word? Immature, then. But not in the sense of immature-teenage-boys-who-start-food-fights-at-lunch. More like inexperienced. I haven't lived life at all yet. I never go out on a limb, I never try something new. It's all same old, follow the routine, and go about with my same boring life. Hell, I've never even been on a rollercoaster before. And we can bring my inexperience to a larger category as well. Boys. Girls all around me are doing who knows what with their boyfriends and here I am, a kissing virgin. A hugging virgin. A holding-hands virgin. A male-contact virgin. Whatever you want to call it. Most girls I know would call it "sad". That's a good word to describe my love life. Of course, I'm far from picky. Call it anything you want- sad, depressing, gloomy, miserable, pathetic, poignant…

"Damn!" I hit the pavement hard, scraping my hands. "I mean, darn. Not damn. Oh damn, I said it again. I mean… oh darn, I said it again. Damn… darn, I'm really sorry, I don't normally cuss like this, but…"

"Damn, are you all right?" Good, at least this mysterious stranger person who had (so rudely, might I add) knocked me over when I had been walking innocently down the sidewalk used the word "damn". My apology had been long and highly unnecessary. I should just stop apologizing because it always seems like I'm apologizing for the wrong stuff. But then again, if I stopped apologizing all together, people might think me rude…

"Hello? Can you hear me, mate?"

Oh right. I should answer this mysterious stranger's question. If I didn't answer his question, he might think that… oh forget it. "Yeah, I'm fine… I think… just a couple scrapes, but it really isn't a big deal. I mean, yeah, I'm bleeding but no one has ever died from a little bit of blood, right? Oh wait, that was a stupid thing to say, of course people have died of blood. I meant that there really isn't enough blood here to kill me…" I was rambling. I have this bad habit of going on and on about stuff, which, though people appreciate it in class when I drive the teacher off-topic, can get really annoying to someone who's listening to me. And that might be why I don't really have bucket loads of friends. But I'm not unpopular. At least I don't think that I'm unpopular. After all…

"People die from that red gunk?" came the surprised answer. He didn't think me to be stupid then, that was a plus. I stood up, brushing myself off, and finally looking at this guy who had knocked me over.

I almost fell over again. This guy was gorgeous. Not in the gay-male-model-who-takes-too-good-of-care-of-his-hair kind of gorgeous. Just… gorgeous. He had black hair, down to about his shoulders. His eyes were slanted upward, but he wasn't completely Asian. And he was smiling at me.

Did I mention I'm a guy-smiling-at-me virgin too?

"We really should get you to that hospital-do that Bobby was talking about… don't they have some people who take care of people who get broken? You seem pretty broken to me, mate."

Broken? Was that good or bad? He could, of course, be referring to my skinned knees, but knowing all of the immature teenage boys at me school, he could be trying to use a clever pick-up line on me. That thought excited me. I've never had a guy use a pick-up line on me. I gave the guy my sexiest smile. "Hey there, I'm Julie," I said.

"Julie…" he said slowly, like he was testing the name out.

"Don't you know anyone named Julie?" Julie was a pretty common name. I've spent my entire life wishing that my parents had named me something more exotic. Though I'm really not a very exotic person. I'm pale with freckles and brown hair. And glasses. Yeah, real eye-catching. But maybe if my name was Esmeralda or Jacqueline or Jasmine, people might notice me. It might not be good to be noticed, however. I wouldn't really know. I've never been noticed before. But some noticing could do me some good…

He grinned at me. "Nope. It's a pretty unique name." Was he joking? I couldn't tell. I really wasn't good at deciding when people were joking or not. I guess that I don't really have a stellar sense of humor.

"I'm guessing that you don't live around here? I mean, no offense to you if you do live around here, but in my grade at school alone there are about fifteen girls named Julie and even one Juliette, so it's really not too unique. But of course, you probably already know that because you probably go to my school. Only maybe you don't because you thought Julie was a unique name. Where did you come from?"

"Well, I just got here from far."

"Far."

"Yep."

"Far… as in… Germany?" I'm sure there are placed farther away from Maryland than Germany, but I might as well venture again. Though this guy certainly didn't look German. But then again, maybe he just had moved to Germany. Maybe I should ask him, but that might seem rude to assume that he's German when he might really be…

"Germany! Hobey, that's where all those Nazi wogglies lived, right?"

Okay, this was a joke. "I'm not stupid… I mean, I can be stupid sometimes, but that's not really the point. The point is, I know that this is a joke and it's really not very funny and I think that you should just go on your way now because I'm really okay and…" He winked at me. That shut me up pretty quickly.

"Joke? Of course not. I was just hoping that you might know where Courtney Chetwynde lives," he responded, sounding absolutely sincere.

Courtney Chetwynde. She was one of the most athletic girls at my school. She was also totally gorgeous, though I mean that in a non-lesbian sort of way, I'm just stating the facts. It was all starting to come together now. "You're her boyfriend, aren't you?"

He laughed. "I barely know her. Cloral and Second Earth don't really mix, mate!"

"Cloral? Second Earth?"

He grinned at me again. "Don't ask. Hobey, we apparently have different names for things where I come from."

"And you come from far."

"Right. See, you're catching on mate!" He smiled happily at me. "Now do you know where Courtney lives?"

Hold on. If he came from "far" (whatever the heck that means) and he barely knew Courtney, why should I be telling him where Courtney lived? For all I know, he could be some mass murderer who is just trying to murder Courtney. But I've never seen a mass murderer who was this gorgeous. I suppose a mass murder could be gorgeous. I was being entirely stereotypical.

It's not good to be stereotypical. I should probably stop my stereotyping. I wonder if people stereotype me. They probably do. Hmmm, does that mean that this guy I was talking to stereotyped me? I hope it's a good stereotype if he did. I was really beginning to like him. But he probably wouldn't like someone like me.

He put his arm around my shoulder.

Hmmm, maybe he would like someone like me after all.

This was my first male contact ever. I had never had an arm around my shoulder before. It was actually a pleasant feeling. Yes, I could definitely get used to have this guy's arm around my shoulder. His arm was muscular and strong and amazing. I felt like I was going to faint with happiness. If this was what I got like when I felt his arm, imagine how I'd get when I felt other parts of his body.

Like his… foot. Yeah, that comment didn't sound right. It's good that this guy can't read minds. I'd really be in for it, then. I'm glad I'm not one of those people who talk out loud when they're thinking….

"Mate, you're talking to yourself. Are you okay?"

Crap. I guess I am one of those people who talk out loud when they're thinking.

He looked down at me. Yeah, he was a lot taller than me. But that's perfectly fine with me. After all, the guy is supposed to be taller in a relationship. It wouldn't look right if I was towering over him. Of course, I mean no offense to girls who are taller than their boyfriends. That's perfectly fine. It's just that by tradition, the guy is taller. Or am I getting that mixed up? Is the girl supposed to be taller? Am I still talking out loud?

Okay, good, silence. That means I'm talking in my head. I seem to do that a lot. Wait, silence? Why's that guy staring at me like that? Did he ask me something? Oh, right, Courtney Chetwynde. His girlfriend. I don't believe that he's not her boyfriend. He's probably just lying so he doesn't hurt my feelings. "You're just lying so you don't hurt my feelings, right? It's okay; it won't hurt my feelings if you're Courtney's boyfriend. Girls like me never get attractive guys like you. Wait; did I just say you were attractive? I didn't mean that. I mean, I did mean that, except I didn't mean for you to hear that…"

I was greeted by silence.

Terrific. He probably thought I was a crazy lunatic.

"You're not a crazy lunatic," he responded.

Ahh, he could read my mind! Or I might have just been talking out loud again. Great, now he probably thinks I'm a crazy lunatic who talks to herself.

"Or a crazy lunatic who talks to herself," he added. He paused for a moment. "Though I'm not going to deny the part about you talking to yourself."

I've really got to stop thinking out loud.

"Now, are you going to lead me to Courtney's house or are am I going to have to deal with this tum-tigger on my own?"

I had been to Courtney Chetwynde's house a grand total of one time. It was her tenth birthday party. She whacked me with a baseball bat. She was trying to break a piñata and get candy. Instead, she broke my arm and got a medical bill.

"Yeah, sure, I'll go to Courtney's house with you. I'd go anywhere with you. Oh god, I didn't mean it in that way! I meant it like I'd be glad to help you. Everything I say comes out wrong. But anyway, I've only been to her house once and I ended up getting whacked with a bat when we were hitting the piñata and…" He was staring blankly at me, so I stopped talking.

"What's a piñata?"

I looked at him. This was one confusing guy. He seemed so clueless about the simplest things, but I didn't think he was an idiot or anything. But maybe I'm biased because I think he's gorgeous. "You had a deprived childhood."

"Not really. Spinney-do is a fantastic game, maybe we could try it sometime together." He winked at me again.

Was he asking me out? Oh my gosh, he was asking me out. This was so exciting. A guy had never asked me out. This was a dream come true. Everyone was going to be so jealous when they found out what a gorgeous boyfriend I had. I must be dreaming. Maybe I should try pinching myself. If it hurt, that would mean that this guy was indeed real and was actually asking me out.

It didn't hurt.

I pinched harder. This could not be a dream. Absolutely not! He was real and I was going to prove it. Maybe if I pinched him, I could feel that he was real. I pinched him on the arm that was still around my shoulder.

He jumped about a mile in the air. "What was that for, mate?" he said angrily, rubbing his arm in the spot where I had pinched it. Of course, to rub his arm, he had to take it down from my shoulder. Maybe pinching him wasn't the most brilliant idea.

"I'm sorry! I've just never gone out with a guy before and I'm really excited that you asked me to be your girlfriend and everything, but I just needed to make sure you were real before I wet my pants with excitement. But the answer is yes, I would love to play spinney-do with you!" I swear I was squealing. I never squealed. But squealing seemed completely appropriate at this point in my life.

Because I had a boyfriend!

"Actually, I can't play spinney-do with you."

Okay, um, maybe I didn't have a boyfriend. I was beginning to think that either this guy was really indecisive or he had multiple personalities. Either way, he didn't seem interested in me anymore. That kind of stunk. He got me excited over nothing. I wasted a squeal on this guy!

"I'd love to play spinney-do with you…"

There's the multiple personalities again.

"But it's physically impossible. See, you can't come too far." Too far? What did he mean by that? I can go as far as I like, thank you very much. This whole far business was beginning to annoy me.

I glared at him. "Okay, fine, be that way." I have a very menacing glare, if I do say so myself. He looked rather intimidated by it.

"Do you have something in your eyes? They've gone all squinty."

I stopped glaring at him, immediately. However, I still wasn't happy about this multiple personalities issue, so I stalked away from him.

He followed me. Oh right, I was supposed to be taking him to Courtney's house. I wasn't sure why I was doing him a favor after he asked me out and dumped me a second later because I couldn't "come too far".

We reached Courtney's house in total silence. "Hobey, thanks for taking me here! I can't wait to see Courtney again!" He raced up to the door and stood there.

"It might help to knock," I suggested.

"Knock? Knock on what?"

"On the door."

He looked confused, but he raised his hand and hit the door. And hit it again. And again. And about ten more times after that. "Hobey, this is fun!" he exclaimed. He began to tap the door in a pattern.

Not only did he have multiple personalities, he had a strange door-hitting fetish.

The door opened and he stopped hitting the door. Courtney stood at the door, dressed in the same clothes she had worn to school that day. I'm not really sure why I remembered what Courtney Chetwynde wore to school today. I didn't really have any classes with Courtney. Maybe I just had a really special talent and could remember what people wore really easily. That would be cool. I could become famous and go on talk shows!

"Spader! What are you doing here?" I left my talk-show fantasy and stared up at Courtney, who was looking at the guy with shock. I guess the guy's name was Spader. That was a really odd name. How could he say that my name was odd when he had a name like Spader? Then again, Spader could just as easily be his last name. It wasn't a weird last name. At least I don't think so.

Spader grinned. "I wanted to surprise you. I guess it worked!" Courtney smiled back at him.

"I was so worried about you! I thought that you had died! What about the flume collapsing Eelong? How did you and Gunny escape?"

Spader just smiled back at her. "Too many questions mate. Don't I get a warm welcome?"

"Of course!" Courtney walked closer to Spader and gave him a big hug.

Courtney Chetwynde was obviously not a hugging virgin. She knew what to do with her hands and where she should look and all that. If Spader had hugged me, I'd have looked like a drowning buffalo. A hyperventilating drowning buffalo because it would have been my first hug. Unfortunately for the buffalo in me that was dying to come through, Spader wasn't hugging me. He was hugging Courtney Chetwynde. There was definitely a "thing" going on between them.

"Okay, then, I'll just be going so you guys can start kissing and all that other good stuff that teenagers do that I've pretty much be deprived of my whole life. Don't mind me, I'll just walk along this path and when I get to the corner, I'll turn and you guys can continue your little hug session without a little girl watching you…"

Spader and Courtney broke their hug to stare at me. "Who's she? Does she know about the Traveler thing?" Courtney glared at Spader. Her glare was a lot more menacing than mine. Go figure.

"All I know is that he's from "far". Oh, and he doesn't know what a piñata is. Remember when you hit me with a bat at your tenth birthday party when we were whacking the piñata? I still have a scar on my arm from that, but don't worry; I'm not holding a grudge. And he was talking about coral… no, Croral… Crolal… Cloral? Yeah, Cloral. But yeah, I have no clue what that is, so your whole "Traveler" business is safe with me."

Courtney was barely listening to me; she was far (haha, ignore my pun… Spader keeps talking about far, so I just had to throw the word far into my thoughts because I thought it would be funny, only now I'm remembering that I have no sense of humor, so I probably should stop rambling) too busy glaring at this Spader guy. "She knows about Cloral? Spader, I thought you had better control than that!"

Spader didn't look so happy anymore. "I didn't say anything about Cloral!"

"She knows about FAR!" I was beginning to think that there was more to this "far" business. They weren't using far as a three-letter word meaning, "at, to, or from a great distance". It was definitely creeping into the "noun" category. I only knew far as an adverb or adjective.

Spader obviously hadn't expected this reaction from Courtney. "She doesn't know what far is. She doesn't know that it's a lost city! Heck, she thinks it's spelled 'far', not 'Faar'! Don't worry, mate!"

"Um, Spader?" I said, shyly. I didn't want to get yelled at. Getting yelled at really isn't fun. "Now I know that it's a lost city spelled 'Faar'. Thanks, I suppose. Though I don't really have anything to be thankful for because I'm still really confused about this whole thing. So if someone would explain to me, I'd really appreciate it and I'll probably love you forever, although I already love Spader because he's gorgeous. And I didn't mean to say that last comment out loud, so go back to your hugging and ignore me."


End file.
